


Dance With Me, Teach!

by EverSparrow



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/M, Female My Unit | Byleth, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Golden Deer Route, Garreg Mach Ball (Fire Emblem), Goddess Tower (Fire Emblem), I love Claude von Riegan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:48:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25885342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EverSparrow/pseuds/EverSparrow
Summary: In which Claude and Byleth share a dance and a kiss and their ambitions all in one night, and Byleth realizes that maybe, just maybe, she might sort of be in love with Claude von Riegan.
Relationships: My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Kudos: 33





	Dance With Me, Teach!

**Author's Note:**

> Just some F! BylethxClaude fluff which I may turn into something longer since I absolutely love the two of them together. I've never written for FE3H before but I have played the game about four times so I'm a big fan of it :) I hope you enjoy, and feel free to review! I've changed most of the dialogue, but it's loosely based on what's given in the game. Cross-posted on FFN under the same name.

Byleth is freezing.  
She should have worn her cloak, that’s evident, but then Annette saying she looked so beautiful in her evening wear and Byleth had never really had anyone call her beautiful before and so she left the cloak in her quarters and now she is paying the price.  
It’s the night of the annual ball, and from her position in the corner of the ballroom, Byleth can see the whole dance floor, every twirling couple and flickering lantern and sparkling glass of champagne. She wonders if it’s really the best idea to serve champagne to her students, who have been known to act like they’re completely wasted even when they’re sober, but as she takes a sip of her own glass, she decides it’s for the best.  
She’s never really been dancing before, and she wonders what it feels like. There was certainly no time for balls and parties back when it was just her and Jeralt and his mercenary friends. Their idea of a good time was throwing back a few drinks before fighting each other drunkenly in the streets, and Byleth had always sat in the corner of the pub during those... exhibitions.  
“Dance with me, Teach?”  
Byleth looks up from her champagne, nearly dropping the crystal glass on the floor. In front of her, Claude von Riegan is extending a hand, his yellow half-cape catching the light and making him sort of glow.  
“Er- I-”  
“Well, surely you don’t intend to stand in the corner the whole night.” Claude winks at her, taking her hand in his before she can protest and sweeping her onto the floor, one hand encircling her waist and the other tightly clasping her own. “Have a little fun for once, Teach.”  
“I’m not sure I really know how.” The words spill from her lips before she can stop them, and she blanches immediately. “I mean, I know how, but I’ve never really- I mean-”  
“Look at you, all flustered.” Claude winks at her again, the two of them turning in a slow circle, and Byleth is vaguely aware that her feet are moving in time with the music, although she’s not entirely sure why she hasn’t yet stepped on Claude’s toes. “Relax, Teach! You don’t have to be so tense all the time.”  
“I’m not always tense,” Byleth says indignantly, and Claude laughs, throwing his head back so the sound echoes through the ballroom.  
“You’re right. Sometimes, you’re downright twitchy.” Claude grins at her, raising their interlocked hands above Byleth’s head and pulling her into a gentle twirl. She’s certain she looks like a buffoon, but Claude’s smile remains genuine.  
“Says you,” she says, wondering if it’s the champagne that’s making her heart do little jumps as she looks at that shining grin on his face. “At least I’m serious about some things.”  
“I can be serious.” Claude pulls his features into a look of mock solemnity, and it looks so ridiculous that Byleth has to bite her tongue to keep from laughing. “See? Serious as the grave.”  
“You look like Seteth when he tells me about how much he hates me,” Byleth says, and Claude lets go of her head for a minute to press it against his heart in mock distress.  
“Well, that’s impossible.” He takes her hand again, but this time, he leans so close that Byleth wonders, inexplicably, if he’s going to kiss her. Even more inexplicably, Byleth thinks she might want him to.  
“Why’s that?” Her voice is quiet, breathless, and Claude grins back at her.  
“Because I could never hate you.” He says the words in a lilting whisper, and she’s about to respond, about to ask what exactly he means by that statement, when suddenly, he disappears in the dancing crowd in front of her, and she’s left alone in the middle of the dance floor, wondering when exactly it was that she fell for Claude von Riegan.

She spends the rest of the evening in a sort of trance, every thought haunted by the ghost of Claude’s fingers in hers and his whispers of Dance with me, Teach! and I could never hate you. Students drift over to her corner every few minutes, asking for a dance, and she obliges, setting down yet another abandoned glass of champagne and trying to ignore the dull ache in her head.  
With every turn around the floor, she’s reminded of just how much she likes working here. Lorenz compliments her dress and says he’s more than willing to buy her a matching rose brooch to his own, Sylvain proposes marriage three times, Hilda dances with her ‘just because she needs a break from all her male suitors’, and Ignatz can barely get a word in without blushing. All of them warm her heart, but after a while, she finds herself in the courtyard, free from the buzz and the lights and the bubbles, alone in the cold night air.  
She’s vaguely aware of Sothis yelling something at her, but she’s fairly certain the champagne has dulled any thoughts besides those of Claude’s voice, so she just takes deep breaths, trying to focus on something that doesn’t make her heart flutter, like the clash of blades in battle.  
They still have so many more battles to fight, so many more missions to go on and lives to take. Is it selfish of her to want one night to herself, to further her own interests, and not be thinking of her Golden Deer?  
Byleth remembers a conversation with the Gatekeeper she had earlier in the month, the one where he told her of an old legend that encompasses the fabled Goddess Tower. Even then, she’d pictured Claude’s face, the two of them alone with the stars and the wind and words that she’s wanted to say for too long.  
Well, even if Claude is still dancing with his many suitors, she might as well check out the Tower for herself. There’s no harm in a little walk of the grounds, is there? No. There’s not.  
It only takes her a few minutes to find the Tower and the climb the winding staircase to the top, wondering with every step why the hell she left that cloak in her room. Maybe she should go back for it. No, better yet, she should just turn around and go to bed. It’s late, anyway, and she has to teach the next morning-  
“Well, if it isn’t Teach!”  
The words nearly make Byleth fall backwards down the stairway, and she shakes her head, disbelieving of the sight in front of her. Claude and his white-toothed grin stare back at her, leaning against the wall like he owns the place.  
“Can’t bear the dancing anymore?” He winks at her and she shakes her head, putting a hand to her temple.  
“I just- I needed a break.” Byleth sighs, walking forward to stand in front of him. “And yourself?”  
“Well, I’m the same as you, believe it or not.” Claude sighs, looking out at the stars and taking on a serious air that’s nothing like the Seteth-face he made earlier. “Parties… aren’t for me.”  
“No way!” Byleth laughs. “Parties seem like your kind of thing.”  
“Well, the music’s fine, but the dancing… well, I was never really taught to do that kind of thing,” he says.  
“Neither was I,” Byleth admits, and Claude looks up at her.  
“You mean mercenaries don’t dance? I’m shocked,” he deadpans, and she feels like maybe, if she wasn’t so tired, she might have smiled.  
“And here I was thinking the Heir of House Riegan had spent his whole childhood dancing with the ladies of the Alliance.” Byleth says the words light-heartedly, but something in Claude’s face changes, and she stops for a minute, wondering if she’s said something wrong.  
“Well, there’s a lot about me you don’t know, Teach.” Claude’s light-heartedness is forced, too forced, but Byleth decides not to press the matter. “Anyway, I assume you’ve heard the legends about this tower?”  
“I- I have.” There she goes again with the stuttering. Goddess above, why can’t she speak normally around him?  
“They say if two people pray for the same thing here, the goddess will grant their wish without fail.” Claude raises an eyebrow at her, and she wills herself not to flush red. “Of course, it’s just a legend. There’s no real fact to it.”  
“So you don’t believe it, then?” Byleth tries to read his expression to no avail.  
“I never said that.” He winks at her, and she takes a deep breath. No blushing. “Well, what do you say?”  
“You want to try?” Claude nods, and Byleth frowns, trying to think of something to wish for. “Well, what’s your wish?”  
“To marry you.” Claude’s face is so serious, so stoic, that Byleth nearly falls over with surprise.  
“Wh-what?”  
“I’m kidding, Teach,” Claude says, laughing, and she has to fight to resist the urge to punch that stupid grin off his face. “Let’s see… Something practical… Ah. I’ve got it. How about we wish for our ambitions to come true?”  
“Ambitions?” Byleth is taken aback by his response.  
“Surely you must have an ambition or two.” Claude’s gaze seems to bore into her, and she shifts uncomfortably. She’s never really thought about her ambitions before. A life outside of battle would be nice. A position where she can actually do some good, where she can try to do some actual change. A life where she wouldn’t have to rely on only herself. Where, maybe, she could have someone else by her side. Is there such a life for a mercenary like her?  
“I do,” she says simply, and Claude nods. He understands her, she knows, and why shouldn’t he? There are things about him, secrets, that she cannot even begin to understand. The two of them are more alike, maybe, then they are different.  
“Just as I thought,” he says, his tone somber. “No one is ever satisfied. Otherwise, what’s the point of it all?”  
“I guess I never really thought of it like that.” Byleth considers his words. What’s the point of it all? “And your ambitions?”  
“Are big. Bigger than I know how to handle.” He looks back out at the stars, the moonlight bathing his face in a soft silver glow. “You know, if you would… I’d like for you to share in those ambitions with me, Teach.”  
Byleth isn’t sure what to say. The words are so raw, so real, that she’s left completely speechless. “I- I would-”  
“Maybe that’s a conversation for a different time.” Claude smiles softly at her, a real, genuine smile, and he puts his hands together in a mocking gesture of prayer. “Well, here goes nothing! Oh divine Goddess! Hear our prayers! We beseech you and your radiance!” He yells so loudly that Byleth’s certain the whole monastery can hear him, and this time, she smiles, for the first time in what feels like ages.  
“Shhh! Keep that up and we’ll be expelled for treason,” Byleth reprimands, but her tone is light, and Claude grins.  
“Well, the Goddess will have to listen to us now,” he says, stepping closer to her. “At any rate, whether our wishes really do come true is up to us, isn’t it? We’ve got to believe in ourselves, and all that.”  
“Do you believe in your dream, Claude?” Byleth has to look up to meet his gaze, but she does, her violet eyes meeting his grey ones. “Because I do. I believe in you.”  
Claude doesn’t respond for a minute, his expression changing into one of almost sadness. Byleth wonders if she’s messed up again. She’s never been very good with emotions.  
“I suppose we should head back soon. I’m sure everyone is looking for their favorite teacher.” Claude takes another step closer to her until they’re as close as they were when they were dancing, and Byleth wonders why she can still hear the music of the ballroom playing in her ears. “Spare another dance for me, won’t you?”  
“Of course.” Byleth looks up at his perfect face and wonders how she lived a whole life without him in it. His jokes, his schemes, his annoyance, his mysteries- she wants to know any of it, all of it, for the rest of her life. “You know that if you need me, I’ll be here, don’t you?” The words aren’t all that she wants to say, but they are enough. For now.  
“How did I ever live without you, Teach?” Claude takes her hand in his and slides his other arm around her waist as if they’re dancing once again, his touch sending rivulets of energy through her skin.  
“I don’t know,” is all she can say, and then, before she can say something else, Claude leans down and kisses her, and Byleth melts into his arms.  
It’s like magic, like a piece fits into a place that’s been empty for so long, and Byleth kisses Claude back as if they’re the last two people on earth. Fireworks explode in her ears as Claude pulls her closer, and she smiles against his lips. Below them, the music of the ball and the chatter of the students drifts upwards, a few straggling students laughing at the shadows of a couple on the Tower that are just barely visible.  
And above them, somewhere past the flickering stars, Byleth wonders if the goddess is looking down, smiling at them, too.


End file.
